


Midnight

by CavannaRose



Series: Rose Wilson Fics [18]
Category: Deathstroke the Terminator (Comics), Teen Titans (Comics)
Genre: Broken Families, Father-Daughter Relationship, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-07
Updated: 2017-12-07
Packaged: 2019-02-11 16:24:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 766
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12939114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CavannaRose/pseuds/CavannaRose
Summary: Some nights aren't over when you want them to be.





	Midnight

She paused, one hand on the door to her flat, senses pinging wildly. Already tired from the night's event, the one-eyed mercenary exhaled slowly. This was the last thing she wanted to face tonight, the last person she ever wanted to come home to again. Unfortunately, her concerns weren't the main concern of those that chose to disrupt her evening. Gathering what few wits were left to her, she silently drew her katana, before turning the key in the lock.

 

"Welcome home, Rose." The rough and slightly ragged voice of the man on the couch wormed it's way down through the young woman's bones, the way only his could. Feet light across the laminate floor, the white-haired female drew parallel with the man, his own snowy locks matching hers.

 

"You're bleeding on my couch. I'll never get the deposit back now." A silent prayer of thanks flashed across her face, blissfully hidden by the demi-mask she still wore. Her voice had emerged reasonably wry and dry, without that tremor threatening at the back of her throat. "What do you want?"

 

A rusty laugh emerged from the darkly-armored figure, and he rose to his full 6'4", towering a full foot above the delicately muscled young woman. One large hand covered the gaping hole in his side, blood pulsing through his fingers at irregular intervals. "Always to business with you. No pleasantries for your father?"

 

"I left all my pleasantries on that ugly ass floor with my eye almost a decade ago. We're not family, regardless of whether your blood or your poisonous serum runs through my veins. State your case and get out, I have to scrub stains out of the upholstery and I'm already short on patience and energy." It was dangerous, revealing weakness in any fashion, around the mercenary that shaped her weaponhood, but her temper was fraying past the point of no return, and he was leaking rather profusely himself.

 

Her father stepped forward, reaching to stop her with his blood-stained palm, but she blocked it with the shining edge of her blade, stopping just shy of adding to the mess of crimson he was already coated in. "Do not touch me if you value those fingers." Rose's voice cracked, the emotion bubbling inside her threatening to shatter through her calm. The rage boiled and roiled like a sea in her veins, begging to be unleashed once more.

 

Slade's face drew into a scowl, hand clutching into a fist, and then stilling. When he spoke again, his voice was grave, stern, the disappointed father forced to discipline an unruly child. "Show some respect, girl. Do you think I cannot set you on your backside again? You never win this dance, Rose, so sit down, shut up, and listen for once."

 

More sensible people may have deflated, recognizing the threat that wove like steel through the elder Wilson's every word, but she had been nettled enough, her ire was hot, seeking an outlet, and a target. She adjusted the grip on the handle of her katana, the braid digging satisfactorily into her flesh. Like lightning she flashed forward, but her blade met resistance with a resounding crash. Nothing took Deathstroke by surprise, and his second blade was already coming towards her core. Rose spun away, drawing her second blade just barely in time to block the attack.

 

The pair of mercenary assassins, clattered and danced through the flat, launching off furniture and using the tips of blades to launch books and other household shrapnel to distract one another. Rose took what little home turf advantage she had to stay a fraction of a second ahead of her father, it was enough to avoid the edge of his displeasure, but not enough, it seemed, to drag herself towards the upper hand.

 

The flurry of activity stilled as one of the young woman's katana flew across the tableau, her father's swords each resting at either side of her neck. She dared not breath, or even swallow, for she would not feed the monster even a drop of her blood willingly. "You always have to do things the hard way, I don't know why I'm still able to be disappointed by you, Rose. Now sit!"

 

Two angry blue eyes met over the blades. Tense moments past, but finally she managed a stranglehold on her emotions, cramming them deep into hollow place within her soul. "Fine." Rose bit out, barely leashed anger trying to seep through her clenched teeth. In an overly elaborate motion Deathstroke sheathed his blades, stepping back to allow his daughter to retrieve her lost weapon.


End file.
